Monday, August 16, 2010

As I have freely admitted many times, I am an emotional eater. I eat when I’m happy. I eat when I’m sad. I eat when I’m stressed. I celebrate with food. I mourn with food. I work very hard every day to change that part of me, but it is no easy task. And being the mother to three young children who are very close in age can make some days extremely difficult. As the saying goes, motherhood is the toughest job you’ll ever love. It is loaded with stress, but the joys and rewards and all that unconditional love make it extremely worthwhile.

There was one particular weekend this summer, however, where my ability to handle parental stress was challenged. And I’m not talking about the typical, every day parenting stress…whining, bickering…teasing. This was the perfect storm of parenting stress. It is truly a miracle that we all made it out alive and that I did not eat my weight in junk food. That would not have been pretty.

The funny thing is the day started out beautifully. My husband was traveling over the weekend on a business trip so I took the kids to the pool for the afternoon. We had a wonderful time swimming and hanging out at the pool with friends…truly one of those perfect summer days. Little did I know what was in store for me.

On the way home from the pool, we made a little side trip to Target to pick up a few necessities…one of them being new flip flops for the boys, a quick, uneventful trip…no worries, right? WRONG. There we were standing in the shoe section looking at the vast wall of flip flops when my youngest decides he doesn’t want flip flops. He wants winter shoes. He very nicely asked me to buy him some shoes, and I just as nicely told him no, he didn’t need a pair of black leather dress shoes in the middle of July. “Come pick out a pair of flip flops,” I said to him. “NO…I WANT THESE SHOES,” he bellowed back at me.

I very calmly explained to him (really, I did) that he was not getting shoes, and that if he didn’t pick out the flip flops, I would do it for him. This little scene went on for a few minutes with me showing him flip flops and him screaming “NO"…I WANT THESE SHOES” at me. Finally, I picked out a pair and put them in the shopping cart. The end…NOT. Unfortunately for me and everyone else in the store, I had other things that I needed to buy, and as is usually the case when being publicly humiliated, I had to go literally from one end of the store to the other…all with my 7-year-old who looks like a 9-year-old having the biggest tantrum of his life.

Most people who are unlucky enough have this experience are lucky enough that their child is two, three, four…not SEVEN! I have never received so many stares and dirty looks. If looks could kill I would have dropped to the floor right on the spot. This sweet child of mine never let up. At one point, and those of you who know him know how big and strong he is, he grabbed the front of the cart and pushed it back towards me to prevent me from going any further (and he’s strong enough to do it too). Well, I showed him. I took out the few things that were in the cart and carried them in my arms. I won! Not really. He just followed me along, grabbing at me, pulling on me, falling to the floor, all the while screaming bloody murder. Can you say mortifying?

I left that store completely and utterly emotionally drained. I had nothing left. I had won the battle but not without suffering heavy casualties. And all the while that I was driving home, all I could think about is what can I eat…pizza? McDonalds? Wendy’s? What was it going to be? Or should I wait until I put the kids to bed and treat myself to Chinese or Mexican delivered right to my door. I started to feel better, calmer. One of these tasty treats was going to make everything right in my world again.

As soon as I got home, I went right to the computer to look at my options for food delivery. We have a food delivery service in town that will deliver orders from several area restaurants so the possibilities were endless. Whatever I wanted I could have delivered right to my doorstep. How wonderful is that? I poured over the menus choosing one thing, then looking at another menu and changing my order, all the while my pulse racing in anticipation of the feast I would soon be enjoying. I must have spent 45 minutes picking and choosing and changing my order. So many choices to help make me feel better again.

Then the strangest thing happened. Just as I had finally decided what I was going to order, it hit me. This is NOT the way to console myself. So my son embarrassed me in public in the middle of a crowded store. So what? Was eating all that junk going to erase that? No. All it was going to do was make me feel good for about five minutes, and don’t get me wrong, it is a wonderful feeling…so comforting, like a big, giant food security blanket taking away all your troubles…until I overstuff myself and then start hating myself for being so weak. I definitely didn’t need that! The day had been bad enough already.

So needless to say I am feeling really good about myself and all without the food. I’m so proud of the progress I have made over the past few months. The numbers on the scale are changing, and so is my attitude toward food and toward myself. I feel more powerful every day and confident that I can handle anything that comes my way…all by myself, without my edible security blanket. GO ME!!

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

So I got on the scale Saturday morning and saw that I lost a whopping ONE pound last week...WHOOPIE!...a whole pound (yes, I'm being sarcastic). Now, don't get me wrong, I'm happy to have lost wieght. I could have not lost any or even gained, but I didn't so I know I should be happier about this one-pound loss. But I just can't get excited about it. The thing is, I have really been stepping up the excersising lately, and I was hoping to see that paying off on the scale. Now, I know what you all are thinking...I'm exercising more...excercise builds muscle...muscle weighs more than fat. I've been telling myself the same thing. But it's very hard to believe I'm making progress when the scale barely budges.

I find myself thinking back to another time several years ago when dieting and exercising were the main part of my life...when haven't they, actually. I should be the fittest, most svelte person on the planet with all the energy I have put into diet and exercise. But that's a whole other issue. Quite a few years ago, I had back surgery right before Christmas...that's right, right at the beginning of the "Stuff Yourself With Comfort Food Until You Explode" season. So there I was, laying flat on my back, in pain and with nothing to do but make myself feel better by eating...and eating...and eating. During those pre- and post-surgery weeks I had easily gained at least 30 pounds, not to mention the fact that I had previously been on the gaining end of my latest dieting cycle.

Finally the Christmas, a.k.a. Pig Out season had ended, and the doctor gave me the okay to go back to work. Life was returning to normal once again...except I was 30+ pounds heavier and feeling fat and rundown. I was actually dreaming of exercise. I couldn't wait for the doctor to tell me I could start working out. In fact, I was so anxious, I actaully called him to get permmission. Who was this person I'd become? I don't think I had ever looked FOWARD to exercise...all that sweating and panting...what was I thinking? I was thinking I hate the person I've become. It's time to take some time for myself and start liking me again.

And so it began. I joined a gym and learned everything that I could about diet and exercise from the wonderful trainers. I went faithfully every night after work, and it wasn't easy...it was February and COLD when I joined, but I just kept looking at the big picture. This would pay off, and by summer I'd be ready for miniskirts, shorts and bathing suits. Before I knew it the weight would be falling off of me, right? WRONG. Weeks turned into months and I wasn't noticing any changes. Nobody was telling me how great I looked, asking me if I've lost weight. Nothing...just me looking the same and feeling more and more frustrated. Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't looking for the magical, overnight cure for obesity. I'd been dieting long enough and tried enough fad diets that promised those results to know that there is no overnight cure. I was ready and willing to work hard for this new body I so desired. All I was looking for was some sign that my hard work was paying off.

I remember one particular day I walked into the gym absolutely unmotivated to be there. It must have shown on my face because one of my trainers could see I was not exactly happy to be there and he came over to see what was up. I told him about my frustration, and he couldn't have been more encouraging. He told me not to give up because whether or not it showed on the outside, my body was becoming more and more healthy on the inside and eventually the outside would catch up. He told me to continue avoiding the scale because there was a very good chance that it would show that I had possibly even gained a couple of few pounds...that whole muscle weighing more that fat thing again. He was absolutely right about everything too. A couple of weeks after our conversation, I started to notice my clothes feeling looser and people were starting to notice my shrinking body. I even inspired a co-worker to join a gym!

I've been using that past experience A LOT lately to keep myelf motivated now. I'm trying not to put as much emphasis on what the scale says and starting to pay more attention to how I feel and how my clothes feel on me. The clothes are slowly becoming looser, but the most noticeable difference is in the way I feel. I have so much more energy than I did. I look forward to exercising every day now and always make room to fit it into my day. I have even started craving VEGETABLES...something I have never done before. Veggies rarely graced our plates, but now they are a part of every dinner, making my husband very happy since he's always been a veggie lover. I've even gotten the kids to try some...they'll come around sooner or later. But I feel good that I'm setting a good example for them at the dinner table.

So I will continue to plug away at the whole diet and exercise game. I will TRY NOT to get frustrated and I will continue to tell myself that it doesn't matter if my hard work isn't showing on the outside that much yet..it's what's happening on the inside that is more important. My body is becoming healthier...my mind is becoming healthier, and I feel better about myself than I have in a long time. And I guess that's something after all, right?!

Friday, April 16, 2010

I know it's been a while since you've heard from me, and I apologize for that. It's been a busy couple of weeks and also an exciting couple of weeks for me. I am participating in a series that the Cleveland Plain Dealer is doing called Fighting Fat. They will be following me and several other bloggers throughout the year and as a result I will be posting my blog on Cleveland.com. I will continue to check in here at A Weighty Situation on Saturdays to record my weight losses/gains (hopefully all losses). I'd love for you to follow along with me at the following link to check up on me and keep me motivated!http://blog.cleveland.com/fighting-fat-susan
Thank you to everyone who is following me and helping me to be successful on this long, sometimes difficult journey that I have embarked on.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Now, don’t get me wrong. I really don’t think of exercise as a four-letter word. There was a time when I actually enjoyed exercising. I used to work out faithfully five days a week. I was there so much everybody on staff knew me by name. But then a husband and three kids came into the picture, and I had less time to go to the gym. No, I most certainly don’t blame them for my little sabbatical from exercise (I’m the only one who can take credit for that), but let’s face it, there is less free time for things like exercise when trying to raise a young family.

Fast forward 13 years and here I am at my heaviest and more out of shape than I have ever been. How did climbing a flight of stairs become such a monumental feat? You know it’s bad when the laundry doesn’t get put away because just the thought of climbing the stairs carrying a full laundry basket wears you out. That’s pretty much where I’ve been for far too long. I’m so out of shape that housework has become 10 times the chore that it should be. So I’ve decided enough is enough. Along with taking care of myself nutrionally, I’m also going to start taking care of myself physically.

So what to do…how to move that body. I’ve tried a few things along the way. It’s not easy finding the right exercise when you are this overweight, especially when you think you can just jump right back in where you left off all those years ago. I decided that the stationary bike would be the best for me so off to K-Mart we went to buy a recumbent stationary bike. That was the first step…buying the bike. Then came that terribly difficult second step…getting on the bike and actually making the pedals move. It’s not as easy as it sounds (it really isn’t).

I started out with the best of intentions and great excitement about getting physically fit. I eagerly jumped on the bike ready to pedal myself to skinniness. That part went very smoothly. It was the pedaling that I had trouble with. You see, in addition to being out of shape, I know I’ve mentioned this before…I’m FAT. It’s not so easy to pedal a recumbent bike when you’re fat. Let’s face it, fat people carry A LOT of fat in their stomach area--it’s a well-known fact. Adding to the size of my stomach is an umbilical hernia that I got after my first child was born. Every time I turned those pedals, my thighs punched me in the stomach…not a pleasant feeling at all. Needless to say, stationary cycling didn’t last very long. Like many pieces of home exercise equipment, it has just become another piece of furniture taking up way too much space.

Next I tried a dance exercise video, Dancing With The Stars Cardio Dance to be specific. What was I thinking? Just watching it made me EXHAUSTED. I never got past watching watching all those skinny girls moving their perfect little bodies effortlessly to the music. No, cardio dancing was definitely not for me. I have to keep reminding myself that I’m about twice the age I was the last time I did any real exercise at all, but I wanted to hit the exercise thing head on, start seeing those results ASAP. I’m not exactly the most patient person. Okay, so on to the next thing…

I finally had to realize and accept that this was going to take a while. You don’t just exercise one day and instantly get back into shape, and no matter how hard you try, you cannot exercise like you’re training for a marathon when you are in your 40s and 100+ pounds overweight. So I told myself, slow and steady. Walking…that shouldn’t be too hard. In fact, it should be easy, right? People walk during part of every day of their lives. And yes, it is the best way to start out for someone like me, but hat doesn’t mean that it’s easy because it most definitely is not.

The first time I walked, I started out with lots of energy, thinking I could walk the whole neighborhood in no time at all (it’s very big, by the way). It turns out I could only make it around my block, about 6/10 of a mile. My legs were as wiggly as a piece of over-cooked spaghetti by the time I got home…not too depressing, right? But hey, I got out there and did it! I was very proud of myself. It may be 6/10 of a mile now, but some day it will be 2, 3, 4, 5, miles…who knows how far I’ll go or what other things I might try because I finally got off my duff and started moving.

I had finally accepted it. I had finally let it sink in. It’s not going to happen overnight. I just have to get up and get out there and do my best every time. And I have realized that the more I do walk, the more energy I have, and soon those stairs won’t be the difficult mountain to climb that they are today. Soon I’ll be out there running around with my kids, riding bikes with them and taking them skating and skiing and doing all kinds of fun things with them. And I can’t wait…remember patience doesn’t come easy to me.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

I stepped on the scale this morning and was very pleased to see that I am down two more pounds. This brings the grand total so far to 7 pounds after three weeks. I am very happy with a two-pound loss. Last week I got on the scale to find that I'd only lost a pound. Funny how I say ONLY, but I have to say I was just a little bit disappointed. I'm still waiting for that week that I drop 4, 5, 6 pounds. I know...unlikely, and when it does happen it is quite rare. After about 30 seconds of self pity, I reminded myself that one pound off is better than one pound or possibly even more on, and if I wasn't dieting, I'm pretty sure it would have been a weight gain. Although, I wouldn't know it because before I started eating healthier, I avoided the scale like the plague.

So I start another week, two pounds thinner and very enthusiastic about my new lifestyle. I'm already feeling so much better about myself, and it's only going to get better from here!

I can’t tell you how many times I have started a diet only to have some kind of party or event, usually involving food, come up. Like my previous post about waiting until Monday to start my diet so I can live it up on the weekend, I have many times told myself I will start my diet after (fill in the blank here). The only problem with this is there is ALWAYS something coming up so there NEVER is the perfect week or day to begin a diet. I have already been tested with a birthday party brunch, a pizza party and a couple of crazy, busy weeks where I so desperately wanted to just order pizzas for dinner and call it a day. I am proud to say that I passed all of these tests and feel that I am a much stronger dieter for it.

There is, however, one monthly event that I really struggle with…book club. Some of the girls in the neighborhood started a book club a few years back. As mothers of young children, we were all desperate to read something with more substance than “see spot run,” and, of course, there was the social aspect of it as well. I have to admit…I live for book club. It is the one night a month that I know I will be able to go out ALONE and socialize with all of my friends. We have such a great time together. We talk about what’s going on in each other’s lives, in the neighborhood and in the community, and we even get around to talking about the book too (most of the time). And there’s one other thing we do… we EAT!

Now, I’m not talking about a fruit platter and veggies with low-fat dip…I’m talking about REAL snack food…things like creamy dips, hot chili-cheese dip, buffalo chicken dip, egg rolls, and all kinds of sweet treats as well. The sweets don’t tempt me very often, but in case you haven’t realized it yet, my favorite food group is JUNK food, appetizer-type food in particular. And, of course, being the total foodaholic that I am, once I take one bite, it is all over for me. I just keep eating and eating and eating until nothing more will fit in my stomach, and believe me, that’s a lot of eating!

This has really, truly been an ongoing struggle for me since book club started. It combines two of the things that I enjoy most, socializing and eating…oh, yeah, and reading (it is a book club after all). My strategy in the past has always been to skip dinner and then just help myself to whatever I want. It makes perfect sense, right? WRONG. So many of the magazine articles and books that I've read all say just the opposite. When you are going to a party where there will be unhealthy food served, eat something healthy and filling at home so you are satisfied when you arrive…that way you won’t be as tempted to eat all that unhealthy (but insanely delicious) food. My reaction was always the same…Oh, please!! It makes so much MORE sense to starve yourself before you go. Then you can eat whatever you want and not worry about the calories adding up. It’s a win-win situation. Well, apparently it’s not because all I’ve ever done is make myself so hungry that I can’t stop eating or gaining weight. It seems all those books and magazines actually made a good point.

So I decided to take a little different strategy. I knew that there was NO WAY I was going to be there all evening and not be able to eat anything--even if I did eat dinner first (which I did, by the way). Now, these girls are very good friends of mine and know what I’m going through, and they have been nothing but supportive. It was because of this that I felt perfectly comfortable bringing my own snacks, and you know what, it worked out perfectly. I popped up some popcorn to take care of the crunchy, munchy, salty craving, and I brought along a Jell-O Chocolate Mousse (which is fabulous and only 60 calories, by the way) to take care of any sweet craving that I might have. It worked out great! In fact, I actually came home with leftover popcorn, and I didn’t even eat the mousse. I think just knowing that I COULD eat something while I was there made me feel at ease. It was like my own little food security blanket.

Now, I know this strategy doesn’t work in all social situations, but it did help me to realize that with a little creativity I could get to have my evening out and get through it without whipping myself up into a feeding frenzy. Each time I am successful in this type of situation, it gives me the strength and confidence to get through other situations that will surely arise. And who knows, maybe the day will come where I won’t even be tempted by that spread of food. Maybe? Hopefully? I’ll keep you posted on that one!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

As I look back on all the times that I have started a diet (too many to count, really), I have to say that there have only been two times that I have had any success. Most of the time that I began a diet it was because there was some person or big event in my life that I just had to look perfect for. Can you say “pressure”? Why on earth did I do that to myself over and over again?

And this started as early as high school. There was one time that I was just madly in love with a guy, and being 15 and in love I did the only thing I could do…I made a pact with God. “Make this guy love me back and I will never eat another piece of junk food again.” Now, remember, I was 15 and IN LOVE. I was DESPERATE! So the diet began, and I was skyrocketing towards skinniness. He and his friends were actually starting to notice me! WOW! This deal I made was actually working. Until…he broke my heart. He may have been noticing me, but he was also noticing another girl too. And she won his heart. What did I win? All the junk food I could eat, and boy did I eat. I had to console myself somehow, right?

Now, you’d think that as I got older I would realize that losing weight for someone else or for a special occasion was not the smartest way to do it, right? WRONG. I did this time and time again, most recently for my brother’s wedding. I had good reason to try to lose half a ton before their big day. He and his wife had asked me to do a reading (yes, in front of the whole church!), and, of course, there were going to be more photos taken than anyone could possibly count. I had to look my best, right? Again, can you say “pressure”? Needless to say, there was too much pressure and not enough motivation, and by the time the wedding rolled around I was just as fat as I was when they got engaged.

I did my best to make myself look “pretty” for all of the wedding events of that weekend, and I had more fun than I had had in a very long time--all the while hating myself for not looking “perfect.” When the pictures started being passed around weeks later, it made me sick to see myself in them. How could I have done that to myself and to them? And when I saw their professional photos, the first thing I thought was I should apologize to them for the way I looked. I felt like I had ruined any pictures that had me in them. I don’t even have to tell you how I made myself feel better about it, do I?

Now, I did mention that I had had a couple of successes in all of my attempts at losing weight. The two times that I remember were when I just decided, okay, it’s time to take care of me, time to be selfish and focus on being good to myself. I got tired of trying to lose weight in order to make other people happy. And you know what? That’s all it takes. I have heard over and over again from the “experts” that you have to want to lose the weight for yourself. And I resisted that over and over again. What did they know? They’re not fat! But you know what? They were right. You have to decide that you love yourself enough to fight for your health.

But the one key thing to losing the weight out of self love is to keep loving yourself. Notice I said I had two successful weight losses when I followed this “self love” philosophy. What happened after I lost the weight each of those times? Something sad or stressful happened in my life to make me forget to love myself, and I turned to food for comfort. DAMN YOU, chips and pizza and Big Macs!! Why do you have to taste so good?!

So now I make this deal with myself, not for a guy (I already have great one) and not for some special event or occasion, but for myself. I promise to always love myself enough to want to be healthy and to take care of me. I know that if I keep reminding myself that I am worth it, I can have success for once and for all. Look out me, here I come!

Saturday, February 27, 2010

And the winner is....giddy with excitement! Yes, I stepped on the scale this morning with great anticipation and was nicely rewarded for all of my hard work this week. I am down 4 pounds and couldn't be more excited! One successful week down...countless more to go. But that's okay. I've got the time. I'm off to a great start and feeling very motivated.

I want to thank all of you who are following me and sending me words of encouragement. It really helps! You are a huge part of my success. That's all for now...busy weekend going on here, but I wanted to share my excitement with you all.

Friday, February 26, 2010

If I had a nickel for every time I said that, I’d be a very rich woman. It always sounded so logical to me all those times that I said it. Who wants to start a diet on the weekend anyway? And who starts a diet mid-week, right smack in the middle of all it’s busyness? Monday has always been the starting point for every dieter I know. Live it up one last weekend, eating and drinking everything in sight, buy all the necessities to start your diet successfully, and then jump in on Monday morning…full steam ahead, and hope for the best. I guess really, the ultimate question here for any dieter is, who wants to start a diet at all. Nobody WANTS to start a diet so we just say we’ll start on Monday and hope that this will be the Monday that we really mean it.

I can remember the first time I told my husband that I would start my diet on Monday. “Why wait until Monday? If you want to go on a diet start now.” He just didn’t get it. Of course, he’d also never been on a diet before either. He didn’t understand that there was A LOT of prep work involved in dieting. First and most importantly, there were about a hundred cravings that I had to get out of my system…things like pizza, anything and everything on the McDonalds menu, and basically, anything that fell under the category of fried, processed, and really bad for you. If it’s not good for me, I want it. And secondly, if you’re a junk food junkie like me, you have to rid your house of all that temptation, and the only way to do that is to eat it all, right? After all, you can’t let it all go to waste can you?

The ironic thing here is that I started this blog on a Friday, the same day that I decided that the diet must begin immediately. Maybe it was the fact that I’m 43 years old and have started living every day in fear for my life that made me realize that waiting until Monday was just plain stupid. Did I really need to pig out on every kind of food that’s bad for me before another Monday rolled along? How many Mondays had I wasted already and how many would I continue to waste? And you know those wasted Mondays came on the heels of several days of pure gluttony in advance of diet deprivation.

I finally understood my husband’s reasoning. For someone who had never dieted a day in his life, he actually made sense. Why should I, or anyone else for that matter, wait several days to get healthy? I should have enough respect and love for myself and the people who care about me to start taking control of my life immediately. I had finally awakened to it: Life is too short and too precious to waste it slowly killing myself on junk.

So here I am one week into my diet that started on a Friday and doing and feeling great. I actually achieved and maintained success without having to wait until Monday to do it. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been successful when starting a diet on a Monday. Has Anyone?

I’ll be weighing myself tomorrow morning (always get weighed in the morning), and I can’t wait to see what the scale says. You know I’ll be checking in here tomorrow to let you all know how I did. I’ll either be giddy with excitement over my success or I’ll be one very frustrated dieter. But either way, I will turn to this blog instead of into the drive-thru at the closest McDonalds. Wish me luck!!

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I was so mad last night, blinding rage mad. And this anger was directed solely, squarely and directly at my husband. I had so much anger coursing through my veins that he is lucky to have made it through the evening. Here’s what happened…

I had just put the kids to bed and was reveling in the peace and quiet of that wonderful time of day. I enjoy saving a snack until this time because it is the only time that I can savor a treat without interruption. Now I just had to decide what I felt like eating…salty or sweet? The salty was going to be pretzels and the sweet was going to be sugar free Jell-O with a dollop of light cool whip—or at least that’s what it was supposed to be. Normally, I tend to steer towards the salty snacks as I don’t have a very big sweet tooth, but occasionally that sweet tooth kicks in and I need to satisfy it. Tonight was one of those nights. So, I knew I wanted sweet, but did I really want sugar-free Jell-O? I think not. By now, this little debate I was having with myself only made me want a serious, hardcore sweet. And that’s when I remembered it…

On Saturday I had bought three chocolate bars for a fundraiser at my son’s basketball game—one bar for each child. Two of them got theirs right away and proceeded to eat every last bite right in front of me. Not even the smallest of bites was offered to me, but that’s okay. I’M ON A DIET. I put my son’s candy in my purse fully intending to give it to him after his game was over. Well, things got busy after the game as they usually do on a Saturday, and I forgot to give it to him. It just sat there in my purse forgotten and untouched. Until last night.

Of course, remembering that that sweet, sensuous morsel was sitting in my purse only sparked another debate with myself…do I really want to be bad and devour all that chocolaty goodness, or do I want to be good and stick with the Jell-O? After several minutes of debate, a decision was made…I wanted to be bad. It was thrilling! I was going to sit there in the peace and quiet of my family room and watch my television shows while savoring every last bite of that chocolaty goodness.

I went to the kitchen to get my purse and opened it up with great anticipation. I put my hand in there and searched for that forbidden fruit(?). I couldn’t put my hand on it so I stuck my face in there for a better look--still no luck. A little flutter of panic started to run through my body, but I told myself to take it easy. It’s in there. I know it is. So I started feverishly emptying everything in my purse onto the counter…no candy bar. WHAT?! Where was it? Nobody knew it was in there but me. And then I remembered…my husband went into my purse to get my car keys. That #$%&*!@!!! HE STOLE MY CANDY BAR!!!

This is the part where I came as close as I probably ever will to actually killing him. How dare he? He ate my candy bar (yes, I know it was really my son’s…that’s not the point). The point is he denied me that sweet, chocolaty nirvana…and that could easily have gotten him killed.

But after several minutes of trying to decide exactly how to off him ,I realized that he had actually done me a favor. Did I want that candy bar for myself? HELL, YEAH!! Did I need it? HELL, NO. He saved me from making a choice that I know I would have regretted immediately after swallowing that last glorious bite. For that, I owe him thanks, even though he didn’t do it because he loves me. He just wanted my candy bar!

Sunday, February 21, 2010

A couple of years ago I had a slight accident while sledding with my kids. I took a step to push them down the hill, but my knee didn’t like that motion—I felt a snap, searing pain, and a torn meniscus was born. Needless to say, surgery was in my future.

As I sat and waited to go into surgery, my chart was left on the bed with me. I was curious to see what was on there so I picked it up and began to read. And there it was…the “O” word. It was just sitting there, staring up at me--Obese. This was the word that the anesthesiologist had used to describe me. WHAT!? I am NOT obese. I’m just a little chubby, right? Wrong! I was that word, and seeing it on my chart felt like that doctor had just punched me right square in my “obeseness.”

This word just sat there with me in the back of my head for these past two years. It stung in a way that I had never felt before. It should have been my wake-up call to get healthy, but all it did was make me feel so much worse about myself. Good-bye self esteem. And as usual, food made everything better…temporarily. It’s that vicious cycle that so many women know all too well…feel bad, eat to feel happy and comforted, feel worse.

So now I am taking action to change that description of me. I will no longer be described as obese. I’m too many other things—kind, caring, loyal, funny and sweet are a few that come to mind right now. And soon I will add healthy, fit and thin to that list. And who knows, maybe even hot and sexy too. We’ll see…

Friday, February 19, 2010

So, I'm 43 years old, and it's time to face the facts. I am FAT. I have been dealing with this weighty situation ever since puberty struck. Although I must admit, at 11 years old and being a very active girl, it really wasn't all that weighty of a situation. I was a competitive swimmer and swam four days a week and on the fifth day I danced. But unfortunately for me time did not freeze—I did not stay 11 forever. As I got older and my life got more complex, the pounds started to add up, and it got more and more difficult to get them off.

I've decided today's the day. It's time to stop making excuses and putting off until tomorrow what I can do today (I'm the eternal procrastinator). Now, I also know that in order for me to be successful and to stick with this LONG journey that I am about to embark on, I need to be held accountable. That's where this blog comes in. I am going to put it all out there where the whole world can see it, or at least my own little corner of the world. You will get it all here--the good, the bad, and the ugly. I want to share this journey with you all as a way to keep myself motivated and maybe even inspire someone else to join me.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to sit here and preach to people about how to lose weight. Who am I to say what the best best way to do this is? If I had all the answers, I would already be thin, healthy, and fit, and we’ve already established that I am most definitely not. What I will do is share with you my triumphs, my failures, my struggles and my determination.

So now I guess the only thing left to share with everyone is what my actual goal is. There are things like wanting to be healthier, wanting to be able to have fun with my children, taking them skating, skiing, bike riding, but in order to do all this, I have to LOSE THE POUNDS. That is the ultimate goal here. And the best way to begin losing them is to face the ugly truth about how many pounds I actually need to lose. So here goes…are you ready…do I dare even say it? Okay, here it comes…I am going to lose 125 pounds. There, I said it. The elephant in the room has finally been noticed!

I KNOW. It’s a LOT of weight to lose, but I AM going to lose it—just watch me! So follow along with me, check in often, keep me motivated and most importantly, hold me accountable.
Until next time…

About Me

I am a stay at home mom raising 3 children with my husband of 13 years. I am an eternal dieter who is trying to motivate herself and possibly others here on A Weighty Situation. Follow along with me as I tackle the battle of the bulge.

WELCOME!

Please feel free to look around, read my posts, and if you like what you see I invite you to become one of my followers (don't worry, I won't try to brainwash you). I am open to all of your comments and feedback as well. Thanks for stopping by. Enjoy!